


Winter's Glass

by Werecakes



Series: Silver Acropolis [2]
Category: TMNT (2007), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Bannishment, Complete, Leo's just starting to realize his feelings for Donnie, M/M, Mikey wants to still be with Raph, Raph really does care for Mikey, caught while doing it, confused brothers, he doesn't know how to express it, homosexual relations, mini sequel, their relationship is not welcomed by Splinter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:47:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werecakes/pseuds/Werecakes





	1. Chapter 1

When the Nightwatcher was all over the news it was like he was a secret celebrity; he was an enigma that was pasted all over the tabloids. No one knew where he came from, or why he was doing what he was doing. And then, as soon as he came he was gone; like a flicker of dark in the world of light. It was as if no one had noticed him as time passed. All he was now was a few pictures and words printed with ink and musty old paper. But Michelangelo knew better, he knew better because he had the real Nightwatcher with him.

He smiled as he moved the blankets over his shoulders as the cold night tried to bite into him. Old wounds from the previous winter started to ache as he cuddled close to the main source of heat in his bed. Raphael mumbled something in his sleep as he slept when Mikey tucked his beak under Raph's chin. It was warm here, close to the strong body that willingly pressed against him. He knew it was safe every time his lover would wrap his arms around him and he was bathed in the scent of security. Here... here the scars didn't hurt so much. Here was where he could remember the old hunter's shack where Raphael risked so much to keep him alive. And if he closed his eyes, some times he could still hear the sound of the fire crackling, the warmth of the flames that danced in the little fire place. He secretly wanted to go back there, to the little place that made it possible for him to be with the one he loved. But...

His thumb brushed against the swell of flesh where a thick scar laid on Raphael's side. The one sleeping stirred, making a sound of discomfort from having the sensitive area touched. The youngest terrapin pulled his hand away and tucked his head down lower against his lover's chest whispering out an apology. Though healed, the once infected area had a lot of trauma, nerve endings damaged to the point that it caused him pain almost all the time. The emerald ninja always said he didn't mind it, that he could barely feel it, and most the time he was right. But some times... when the weather was bad, thick with thunder and rain, or as cold as this night... then it hurt him to the point he would not want to come out of bed. He would, every day he would... but when he passed out during training then he was forced to make a promise not to do anything when he was hurting. One thing to help stop the pain was to make sure he was warm; a heating pad, a hot bath...

Mikey moved a little so he could rub his hands together warming his palms as much as he could. He then placed his warmed up hands over the fleshy area that caused Raph so much difficulty. He closed his eyes and felt the one next to him slowly relax. He listened to the breathing pattern change from deep slumber to a state of wake. Sea-green fingers gently moved to massage the area around the old bullet wound as he spoke in a whisper, not wanting the room to be loud just yet, “You know... we should really get a few more quilts.”

A strong arm looped around him, “Cold again?”

He sounded so tired, then again, he did just wake up.

“Yeah...” Mikey adjusted himself, moving so that his legs were straddling his lover's thighs being ever so careful of that tender spot, “You hurting?”

“I'm fine.”

He smiled gently pushing their beaks together in a tender nuzzle, “You're lying.”

“So?” Raph turned his head just enough to turn the nuzzles into little kisses.

“So you need to warm up.”

Mikey shuddered when large hands ran from his shoulders, down to wrists and back up. He could still remember when Raphael thought this was wrong, that touching like this wasn't right. And even now, he was still hesitant to do much more than kissing. Each and every time it would take some coaxing, touches in just the right place, words of encouragement. They had yet to tell the others, but only because of fears of being pushed out and rejected. So during the nights where everything was quiet and all were asleep one would sneak into the other's room just to be that little something that was beyond brotherhood. Even if it's just little touches, little kisses; to them, they were little treasures, something they couldn't take for granted.

He moved to lick Raph's neck, his tongue tasting the flesh that fluttered with the strong pulse he wanted to listen to every night. He earned a small whimper when he sucked on a patch of skin while he put one of his lover's palms between his legs and rocked his hips against it.

“Mikey, don't.”

The youngest pulled back, licking his lips savoring the flavor that lingered, “Why? Don't you like this?” He rolled his hips, his head falling back with a soft gasp when one of Raph's fingers slid into the little spot where his manhood was hidden. He churred, that wonderful finger petting him trying to coax him out.

Raph reached up, his hand wrapping around the back of Michelangelo's neck. With a firm yank he pulled the other down enough to growl out, “You know why,” before delving his tongue into the hot cavern of flesh and teeth.

The kiss was long and deep; the emerald terrapin let his hands pull away from secret pockets of the body to run down arms, fingers lacing together. He didn't want to tell Mikey but he liked kissing him more than the act of sex. There was more to Mikey's kisses than what they could do with the rest of their bodies. The trickster of the family always had so much to say, but no one would truly understand to what extent until they were at war with their mouths. It was like drinking raw emotions and thoughts, with every kiss he could tell if Mikey was happy, sad, or even hungry.

The two were so focused on the other that they did not hear the gentle knock, nor the slight creaking of the door as elderly eyes peered in. Their hearts jumped at the harsh call of their names. They turned their heads, attention snapping to the rat that raised them as he narrowed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

It was cold again, that biting hissing cold that colored the ground in white as the moon hung high and bathed everything in silver. His breath came out in light puffs as he pulled his blanket tighter around him. Raphael was doing something, leaving him out in the open of the familiar forest. Blue eyes stared up at the sky that once sang that lullaby of forgotten souls; they were so quiet now. No wind talking, no stars giggling, and the tall evergreen trees only swayed under the weight of the snow that clung to their branches. There was something about this forest, about the shack. It all felt serial, like words written in a story book. Then again all of tonight seemed like it wasn't happening.

He closed his eyes. He could still hear the yelling of their enraged father over a behavior that he could not condone. The snapping of their father's walking stick over Raphael's hand and wrist when he tried to reach over and comfort him when he tried to keep the hurt from bubbling up into tears, he would never forget it. Then there were the words like nails in a coffin. "Leave and do not come back," was what he said to them old fingers pointing to the front door. They left, Raphael holding his hand as they looked backed to see the confused looks upon Leonardo and Donatello's faces when Splinter would not let them follow only telling them to remain and nothing more. Their concerned voices faded when they were cast into the shadows of the cold sewer tunnels, alone with nothing but the other. They were not allowed to even take their masks or weapons.

They had to go to Casey's apartment for warmth, their old wounds screaming at them. On their journey to their friend's home Raphael's side was hurting him so badly that he had to lean on Michelangelo just to walk a few steps. When it came to climbing up the fire escape stairs Mikey had become deeply concerned at the refusal for help from the other. Then Casey had not been very happy with the sudden visitation in the middle of the night but quickly welcomed them in when the low heat from his broken heater wafted out causing the two to shiver at the sudden contrast of heat and cold. 

They kept to themselves most of the details when asked why they were at his home so late at night in their current condition. All he could pry out of them was the shake of Michelangelo's head and hard bitter words of, "We can't go home," that Raphael managed to grind out. Casey had tried to get more information but failed. He offered for them to stay but... They couldn't stay. How could they? If they did then he would get into trouble, someone would see them eventually. The human offered for them to stay at his grandmother's farm house, but the same logic applied there as well. Someone would come eventually, then they would hide. They couldn't be free... not like one should be in a real home. They had decided to go back to were all of this had started, where the taboo of love blossomed and crept under their skin like a graceful tattoo. Casey allowed them to take what they needed, blankets, some clothing for the colder nights, and amazingly enough there was a cubbyhole in the back of his closet where Raphael secretly stored his Nightwatcher costume. When he pulled it out he regarded the helmet with a silent reverence, kneeling on the floor, fingers ghosting over the scored metal. For the trip he tried to get the younger ninja to wear it for protection but he just refused. He argued that he didn't know the way, that the driver to the motorcycle they were going to borrow needed better protection from the harsh winter elements.

And now here they were, back in the forest that was dark and light. Shadows looking at them, whispering to one another as if telling a long lost secret. Michelangelo looked back to where his lover was trying to uncover some large pile up against the shake that seemed to look too old to be standing. Usually he would say something; a joke or a distracting thought, but Raphael was angry. He was furious to the degree that it was best to remain silent and let him brood for a while. He looked back up to the moon and stars. These were going to be his friends for a good long time. All there was out here were animals that kept to themselves, woods that enjoyed being awake for all seasons, and the occasional mutant turtle that decided he needed a breather from the woes of life... though now it would seem that would no longer be 'occasional'.

Sea-green fingers reached up pulling the knitted cap down snuggly around his ears when it tried to slip off, "Say Raph?"

No reply. He must still be brooding.

"Do you think it'll be okay to go back some time to say goodbye to Don and Leo? I mean, when we had to leave they were just coming out of their rooms. They probably have no idea what's going on... and it's not right to just leave them in the dark and all..."

The sound of crunching snow.

"Raph?" Mikey turned to look over his shoulder. His heart jumped into his throat, his Nightwatcher on the ground struggling to get up. The blanket around his shoulders fluttered off when he darted forward, dipping down to grab Raphael by the shoulders, "Raph!"

The visor fogged with every labored puff of breath, "I'm... fine," he managed to grind out.

"No, you're not," Mikey took an arm and pulled it over his shoulders, he gripped the belt of the costume heaving his brother up to his feet. "We gotta get you warmed up."

And when he pulled the Nightwatcher into the rickety walls of their new home the wind picked up, gusting over the snow picking it up into swirls of crystal. The stars blinked down and the moon seemed to smile when the shadows giggled as if the universe was pleased with the plan it had set into motion.

Mikey padded around for the light for the fireplace. There was wood and kindling already set up, they had been just getting the last bits before they would start up the fire for the night. His fingers glided across objects on small shelves before diving into the deep compartment of a small chest that was shoved in the corner. He let out a little victory cry when he clutched the familiar object. With a few flicks of his thumb sparks lit the air in color before a happy flame burst into life. Steadily he lead it to where it could feed and grow on dry wood bringing a lively caramel hue to the hut. His lungs released a sigh when he turned around to find Raphael sitting himself up.

“Why do you do this?” He moved over sliding the helmet off.

Raphael's eyes seemed to be the color of molten gold as he held his side just staring into the dancing flames. His thoughts swirling, swishing, consuming just like the fire before him.

Michelangelo began to loosen clasps as he spoke softer trying to keep his own frustration in check, “You can't just not say anything when you're hurting.”

“I know,” was the slow reply.

“But you still do it!” Mikey pulled back from yanking down the zipper when he realized his lover was now staring at him. His next words were mumbled, “Sorry...”

Raph looked back at the fire, his gloved hand slipping into the material of his suite to hold his throbbing side. The room was filtered with silence with the occasional crackle of wood. The younger terrapin got up to his feet muttering, “I'll get some more wood.”

When he got to the door he looked over his shoulder back to the one that he gave his heart completely too. His shoulders sagged before he slipped outside once more. Things were different now. He felt like such a fool for wanting to continue all of this when Raphael wanted to just let things be. His brother was right; they wouldn't understand. Their father had just disowned them, and what about Donatello and Leonardo? If they ever found out the truth would they even want to be around them? Would they regard them still as family or... or would they not even want to hear his voice again? Would they recoil if he tried to reach out?

He ran a hand down the side over his face, he couldn't think about this now.


	3. Chapter 3

Mikey sighed, dipping down to grab the corner of the blanket that was still on the ground. His other arm held a few bits from the cord of wood that apparently his lover has been stocking up with out telling him. God he hated this! Raph... Raph never liked to talk about anything. He didn't say anything about coming up here to keep maintenance or when he hurt and hell it bothered him when Raph would refuse to talk about themselves intimately. He never said anything! Blue eyes looked down to cold feet that he could barely see past the baggy pant legs of the clothing he wore. Why was he thinking like this? Probably the whole entire situation catching up to him all at once getting him aggravated. Not only that... it was this place. This place where everything started. Yes he loved it but at the same time he hated it. He hated it because Raphael would run here before thinking of him, Raphael would rather slowly kill himself and tend to this place than let him help. The little hut, the frozen pound, the trees that seemed to swallow the hut, they all knew more about his mate than he did. He clutched his fist tight. Why did everything have to know more about Raph than him?

Then he spoke softly to himself, "Even Leo and Don..." It was true wasn't it? That they knew more to their brother than himself. Leo knew how to keep him in check, how to tell when he was up to something. Don knew when Raph was in pain and would be the first to make him sit and relax. Himself? He... what did he know?

" 'Even Leo and Don' what?"

The wood in his arms clattered down when he let go of the reason why he was even outside. His hands scrambled grabbing at the pieces before they could fall completely to the ground. He managed to catch each piece, trapping most against his arms and knees. Raphael reached over to help him only to stop when he hurriedly said, "I got it, I got it." He could feel the ninja's eyes on him as he struggled. When he finally he managed to collect it all he scurried back into the hut, Raph waiting a few seconds as if trying to determine something before following. 

Mikey was setting up the wood next to the fire when he felt a familiar body come up behind him. A leather gloved hand slid over his, a shiver ran up his spine when the Nightwatcher's knees came beside his. The silver guards reflected the dancing flame captivating his attention. The warmth of Raphael's other hand pressed against his abdomen, slipping down gently applying pressure bringing Mikey more onto his lap. Then he was just held there, no more movement, no words, nothing. He swallowed hard, something about feeling the clothing keeping their bodies from each other, it felt so much more sensual than he had ever thought.

"You okay?"

The softness of the words, the warmth around him he didn't know what exactly triggered it but his eyes started to sting. His voice broken when wet pearls of tears started to come out on their own, "No. No I'm not okay!" He lifted his free hand to wipe at the tears taking in a long breath. "I'm... I'm not."

Raphael rubbed his thumb for the hand he held his beak nuzzling the back of his mate's neck in a way he knew would calm the boy down. He wasn't good at things like this, but... there was that one time that Don was upset and Leo was talking to him. Maybe he could try something similar. "It's... not your fault."

"Yes it is!" Mikey curled forward a little, yanking his hand from Raphael's. "I'm the one that said it'd be okay! I'm the one that pushed all of this when you said he didn't want to! Hell, it's my fault that you're so messed up!"

"What?"

"I-I can't figure out when you need help, I can't see when you're hurting and-and it's my fault that you even got the shot in the side anyway."

"Hey! No it's not," Raph tried to move Mikey only to be shrugged off. He growled in the back of his throat before nearly throwing his brother over to the side away from the wood and onto the floor. His hands slammed down on either side of Michelangelo's head, "Don't you do this!"

"Do what?! Tell the truth? It's more than you'll sa-"

"You want truth?!" Raphael grabbed his zipper pulling it all the way down, the material gaping open. He grabbed Michelangelo's wrist and shoved it inside over his scar ignoring the protests to be let go. "This is the truth Mikey! This right here! You think this scar is something that just messes me up! You think you're so blind because you can't tell when I'm in pain, but guess what! You really can't tell when I'm in pain because I don't see it that way! This isn't something that messes me up, this is mine!"

The younger flinched at the words spat, confused at what he meant he managed to get out a quiet, "You're what?"

Those fiery eyes calmed, brows knitting together in a sort of worry. Why... why couldn't he see? He blinked a few times trying to think of what would be the right thing to say. He's never said anything about it because he didn't have the words, he never had the right words. He leaned down, pressing his lips against sea-green ones as he pushed Mikey's hand against the scar more. In his mind he begged for Mikey to understand, to not force him into having to explain something he couldn't. But when he pulled back all he could see was that confusion. He shook his head pulling to sit up; the youngest really was a turtle of words and not actions. He didn't really know what to say when Mikey sat up with him, hand still on his side, eyes down cast. Then...

"So... you... don't think it's my fault?"

He let out a small sigh from his nose as a smile came over his features, "Yeah, it ain't your fault."

"Then..." that hand massaged slowly, rubbing lovingly. "what is this to you? A badge of honor?"

"No."

Those pretty eyes looked up to him, "Then what is it?"

"A reminder of sorts... I guess..."

Mikey moved forward pushing Raph back until he was sitting on his rump and not his knees, he settled down, resting his head against chest allowing his lover to hold him. He flexed his fingers like kitten paws kneading away woes, "What kind of reminder?"

The Nightwatcher was quiet for a while still trying to figure out what to say. Raph nudged Mikey with his beak in a way that told the other that he already knew the answer, that it wasn't necessary to talk about it. The youngest smiled and pressed further into his lover's hold; he understood now. The reason why Raph never said he was in pain was because he was refusing to let himself to hurt. He never said anything because he looked at the scar to be a reminder that he would do anything for Mikey, that he loved him just that much.

"Raph?"

"Hmm?"

Mikey felt his eyes burn again, his voice wavering a little, "I miss Leo and Don."

The arms around him held tighter, a silent okay for the younger to go ahead and cry. And as he silently allowed the tears to roll down Raphael kept his gaze on the fire, not saying a word.


	4. Chapter 4

Leonardo had just about enough of this. It had already been two weeks, a solid hellishly long two weeks after seeing his brothers leave. How they held hands and looked back to him and Don as if silently pleading them to stop them from stepping through the threshold. He wanted to, he wanted to reach out and order them to remain stationary until he could figure out what exactly was going on. All he really got was “they are leaving” from his master and the knowledge that Donatello was just as confused and worried as he was himself. After being detained for so long he couldn't find his brothers in the sewer, and when he went up top he couldn't find them. While he was going from roof to roof checking out their usual haunts he got a call on his shell cell from Donatello who was near hysterics. The olive ninja had gone to check up with their friends to see if Raphael or Michelangelo had gone to their aid but had found that they had left Casey's apartment a considerable time ago. And with their equipment, shell cells, and everything else still in their rooms... there was no way to pick up the trail. They had, of course, tried to follow any lead they could gather in the past few days but everything came up empty.

Now, he had developed a habit of pacing by the home phone hoping that they would call, to let him know they were at least in one piece. Several times he's caught himself pulling up a kitchen chair and just glaring at the phone daring it to ring even just once. Several times he's fallen asleep only to wake up with a blanket over his shoulders and no one around. He always thought it was Splinter up until one night he woke up when the warm fabric was wrapped around him. It had been Donatello taking care of him, going off to bury himself in more work as he tried to reassure himself that their brothers were indeed healthy and safe.

What was worse was that Splinter now took in their training as individuals. They were no longer allowed to spar against one another and whenever they did an activity together it seemed it was only allowed under his watchful eye. Leonardo didn't understand it. They were suddenly being treated like prisoners. They had to ask to leave, they had precisely scheduled meals, cleaning duties were done when Splinter could over see them. It was horrible. It was only until after the elderly rat went to bed did they get time to actually feel like themselves. In these rare moments they found themselves reach for each other for comfort, leaning against each other as they read books or watched television. They needed the reassuring contact of each other, their worry for their brothers only getting deeper by every minute of every day.

Today was no different. Tension was high, Splinter had paced around like a prison warden the whole day before making sure they were in their rooms before he returned to his own. They waited, like they always did, counting the hours until they knew that Splinter had slipped into that state of sleep that couldn't be wakened easily. Then, as quietly as possible Donatello had ventured into Leonardo's room. He sat down on the leader's bed and leaned against him, his face fixed in a passive expression as he flipped through pages of a book while Leo lit a few candles -the light in his room being too bright and would give them away. It was quiet, like all the other times they had together but Leo noticed that in that quietness there was no sound of pages being turned. For a solid thirty minutes Donatello had just stared at the text in his book, his mind somewhere else entirely. Leo nudged the genius with his elbow gaining the other's attention.

“What's wrong?”

Brown eyes regarded him for a moment. The tiny flames of the candles dancing across them giving Donatello such a lovely glow in the caramel hue. The little half moon shaped glasses perched on his beak something so new he had to start wearing since last week, the stress of all of the changes started to mess with his blood pressure as well as a bunch of other things that Leonardo didn't understand too well causing a light loss of sight. Nothing big, Donatello kept saying, it's not like he was going blind. Something about having those glasses, about the candle flickering shadows across his face. Leo had to look away and try not to swallow hard. What was he thinking?! Donatello- attractive?! This was his brother! Brother, brother, brother, brother.

Finally to his relief Donatello looked away and sighed, “I'm just worried. Raph's got his condition and Mikey... Mikey'll try to help but what if he ends up hurting real bad too. Then no one will be there to help them.”

The forest green turtle leaned back against the wall his bed was next too. His sudden shift caused Donatello to slip down from his shoulder to his lap. He let his odd thoughts and the strange pleasant tingling sensation in his body subside to the more present emotion of concern for the two that were no longer in their home. Subconsciously he moved his hand to press his knuckles against Don's cheek, stroking, rubbing as he thought. It was getting harder to function with out them. Their home was too quiet with out bickering or teasing, everything was less active and Leonardo actually yearned for the chance to press Raphael's buttons and make him fiery hot with anger, and pester Mikey into doing more than sit around reading comic books and playing video games. He took a deep breath, “Sorry.”

Don frowned and sat up a little, “Sorry? For what? It's not like you threw them out and is our game warden.”

Leo closed his eyes and looked away.

“Leo?” the mechanic moved so he was kneeling beside his brother, “Leo, look at me.” He gripped his sibling by the chin forcing him to make eye contact. “Hey, this isn't your fault and you know it. Don't you dare start blaming yourself.”

“But it kind of is Don...”

“How?”

“Because I had the chance to stop them before they left... I had the chance to not listen to Master Splinter and go after them.”

“So did I,” Don's eyes turned hard and something about the way he held his head with such respect seemed almost demanding as he whispered out a growl. “That shouldn't stop us from looking for them, nor should it be significant justification for you to put yourself down.”

“But Don.”

“I don't want to hear anymore about it,” then Donatello's lips were over his.

Tongue slipping between lips and teeth to pet against his, urging him to take lead. Before he knew it he was devouring his brother, gripping wrists and pulling them to the sides as he moved to press Don on his carapace. Olive thighs wrapped around him before the kiss broke. He panted as he instinctively bucked his hips forward feeling a delicious shock through his body.

“Don, maybe we,” he grunted when moving forward once more. God this felt so good, “shouldn't do this.”

“What are you talking about?” Donatello gripped the back of Leo's neck roughly bringing him down to the beak that had crooked glasses. Brown eyes seductively dark and cold as he whispered, “Don't you want me?”

“I uh-”

There was a harsh knock on his door waking him up. Leonardo lifted his head fast from his pillow, a string of drool connecting wet spot to his mouth. The door slowly opened, a shy Donatello with his fingers playing with his glasses in his hands, still not used to wearing the item. Leo quickly sat up wiping the drool off of his face with the back of his hand.

“Something up Don?”

Donatello kept on looking around before bowing his head and taking in a sharp breath. He tried to open his mouth but would snap it shut before repeating over and over this odd display of behavior. 

“Don,” Leo pulled the blankets away from his legs. “Donnie what's wrong?”

“I... um...” it came out more of a breath than anything else.

The eldest got up to his feet and came over to his brother. He put his hands on olive shoulders finding them unusually cold. The mechanic quivered, shivered and shook in such slight trembles that it was impossible to see, but he could feel it. And he could hear the rattle in the turtle's lungs when he suddenly coughed thickly. Leonardo wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders quickly looking around from something warm that was close by. He spotted his spare blanket up on the top of a shelf that he kept put away for those intensely cold nights.

“Stay right here,” he ordered before going over to the shelf. He reached up, grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulled it down. His golden eyes squeezed shut when a bunch of sheets and pillows came down on top of him, bouncing off of his head. He gave an exasperated sigh, nothing seemed to be going right since Raph and Mike left. He's become more klutzy, everything's too quiet, Splinter is off her rocker, Don's sick now, and what's worse was that he's been having dreams of Don practically dominating him. He wasn't sure what was worse but he would have to worry about it later. Leo turned around, almost tripping on one of the pillows at his feet. He hurriedly wrapped the blanket around Donatello's shoulders, rubbing at his arms trying to warm him up.

“Come on Don, let's make you something warm to drink.” He helped the turtle out of his room, arm around shoulders, his hands still rubbing to try to get warmth going when Don started to cough again. He just didn't get it. How could Don, of all turtles, get sick? He never got sick.

It was a bit of a chore but he got the turtle down the stairs and into the kitchen. While he warmed up water for some tea he finally heard Don mutter something. Coming over the sword wielder could hear Don more clearly as he traced patterns with his finger onto the kitchen table. It wasn't until Don said, “No not there” that everything clicked. Why Don was ill, why he was tracing things... he was drawing the city map on the table with his finger, he was mentally going over every place he checked, and all these times when Leo was asleep Don was up there, in the cold, looking for hours on end for their brothers.

He opened his mouth to say something when the phone rang; at two am.


	5. Chapter 5

Leonardo had actually smacked into the old pay phone attached to their wall. He stumbled down to the ground his hands knocking the receiver off the hook, as he juggled it and himself before finally getting a grip on it and managed to catch himself on the edge of the phone. “Hello?” How he managed to sound normal after just managing to nearly kill himself on their home telephone was beyond him.

“Uh, Leo?”

“Mikey?! Oh god, Mikeyareyouokay? IsRaphwithyou? Whereareyouguys? Whydidyouleave? Whydidn'tyoucallearlier?!” He suddenly wiped around, “Don! It's Mikey!!”

The purple loving turtle stumbled up to his feet, dropping the blanket he kept clutched around his shoulders. He hurried over grabbing a hold of Leo's shoulder shouting into the receiver that the forest green ninja held, “Mikey! Are you okay? Is Raph with you? Where are you guys?”

Leo looked at his brother, “I already asked him that.”

“He hasn't answered yet has he?”

“No.”

“Then you probably didn't ask it right.”

“Ask it right? How do you think I could mess up asking if he was okay?”

“I'm not trying to attack you Leo.”

“Oh, and you just saying that I asked something wrong isn't attack-”

On the other side of the phone line stood Michelangelo on the side of a road. A “borrowed” cellphone in hand on speaker phone. He looked over to Raphael who was fully dressed in his Nightwatcher outfit, the taller of the two tilted his head looking at the phone as Donatello and Leonardo continued to bicker like an old married couple. “Are they seriously fighting over how to ask a question?”

Mikey gave a weary smile not to sure if he should hang up and just call back when things have calmed or not. “I think they miss us Raphie-boy.”

Nightwatcher turn his attention to his lover quiet as the snow and ice. He turned around and grabbed a backpack that clanked with cans of various foods they had managed to “salvage” from a store several miles away. They had managed to find a cellphone in the lost and found box in the back when they were looking for more warm things to dress in. It wasn't until now that they had managed to get it to work, the thing looked busted up from being stepped on several times. He took a few steps continuing their way back “home” only to stop when he realized he was not being followed. Turning around he found Mikey standing still, his hands the only things moving as they shook. Suddenly the mild tempered turtle reeled his arm back and threw -with all his might- the electronic device onto the cement shattering the small piece of equipment. As he did he gave a howling shout that died into a loud sob. Raphael remained silent as Mikey screamed that the service had just been cut. The taller male only turned, continuing to walk silent only speaking out, “Come on.”

Michelangelo watched the back of his lover. Ever since this had started Raphael had become distant, the more time passed the less he could see the turtle he had fallen in love with. The young terrapin gave his surroundings a scan; a long winding road, a dark forest that always slept, cold ice blanketed with snow under the gray skies... This was his life now... He looked longingly after Raphael and felt a tear trickle down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, picking up his feet to quickly follow. What was worse than having the cold dark gray as a life... was to have it as a lover.

\---===----

Leonardo held an icepack over his eye. Across from him a very, very, very angry Donatello glared back at him sipping a hot cup of tea an icepack over a bite mark on his forearm. The two of them were not happy with each other, not at all. One blamed the other for prolonging the argument to the point that Mikey could never answer their questions. When the dial tone had replaced the dead air they went into a full out fight. All of their training was thrown away in favor for rolling on the floor kicking, biting, and hitting like a couple of two year olds. It hadn't been until Donatello had socked Leo in the eye that his brain was jolted back to life and he expertly subdued the olive turtle calming him down to the point they both could separate with out calling each other names... though, he was sorely tempted to call Don “four eyes” or something else that's juvenile and totally uncalled for.

Finally he sighed and put his icepack down, only able to see through one eye. He had no idea that when Donnie got angry he could hit harder than Raphael. And that was kind of what finally got him to realize what was truly happening to them. They were falling apart, they were at the end of their wits, their patience nothing but a frayed tether. It was turning them against each other. It was making Donatello into a solitary creature, doing everything in secret only coming to him when things felt too desolate and dark. Himself... he was just an empty shell. He was a klutz now, worry riddled in his mind and spirit to the point he was lucky to be able to take a drink of water with out splashing it all over himself.

“We... gotta find them.”

Don quipped sharply, “Ya think?”

“Don, seriously, we're falling apart. I mean look at today! Master Splinter walking down the halls like a prison warden, then bed time and I get woken up from a dream of you dominating me only to try and help you and then what happened? We beat the snot out of each other like kids in a school yard because we're too much out of our minds to do anything right any more!”

The olive turtle was quiet, his hazel eyes watching his brother, “You had a dream of me dominating you?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Yes you did.”

“You're hearing things. Now can we please focus on trying to get a plan going here? We already checked the city, what about outside?”

\---===----

Michelangelo didn't know what to do as Raphael moved over him, kissing his neck in the firelight. He couldn't help his heart beating fast, his breath hitching as those wonderful hands tugged the clothes off. Fingers skimming over his skin in such a wonderful praising way. This was the only color that Raphael had left, the love he showed when touching his willing body. Here he saw how the flickering light danced in those auburn eyes showing so many emotions.

He felt so delicate when the emerald ninja's broad tongue lapped over his bicep trailing up to his shoulder to lay kisses and nips to his collar bone. He ran his hands over his lover's arms, trailing up softly to shoulders pressing their bodies together as he spread his legs to fit Raph between them. But despite how much he enjoyed this he couldn't stop thinking about how much he was loosing. First his home, his father, then his brothers and now... now...

To stop himself from giving a sob he caught Raphael in a desperate kiss, hoping the larger male would at least start to understand what was so very wrong. He was exhausted, filled with shame from pushing all of this onto Raphael's shoulders by insisting to continue their sexual relationship. It was because of him that they lost so much, that his lovely Raph was now in this position. But all he could convey was his desperation. So he felt himself become more lost when they mated. With every thrust he slipped farther, with every kiss and whispered “I love you” he felt himself drowning. After his body pushed over the edge of ecstasy and Raphael drifted off to slumber holding him tight Michelangelo finally let himself silently cry.

To Be Continued in “Cobbling Forest”


End file.
